


Flesh is weak

by rainicornsan



Series: How to break a heart and a pair of wings in one go [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelcest, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Slash, RST, Resolved Sexual Tension, Translation, UST, before the fall - Freeform, hope this doesn't suck, kind of, pre fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7116277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainicornsan/pseuds/rainicornsan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You think you bosom me, I know.".</p><p>[Michael/Lucifer] [pre-fall]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flesh is weak

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [La carne è debole](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/204100) by rainicornsan. 



> This is a very very old fanfiction.  
> I originally posted it [HERE](http://www.efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=2452945) in Italian, two years and half ago.
> 
> The thing you're about to read is actually pretty simple and short.  
> I hate it, but as sudden desire to post it here as well has overcome me, I had to translate it.  
> Also, I kind of restored it.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Michael lowered his gaze on his vessel's jacket, laying on the ground.

  
Lucifer's eyes followed his moves in a naughty fashion.

 

He could not be a witness of that gesture, as he was turned to the other side.

Michael felt so embarrassed, and he knew what was to happen.

 

Such a sudden and deathly silence never fell between the two of them.

Lucifer drew nearer.

 

A heavy, hesitant moment passed before he felt his chest being clutched by a pair of arms and a chin leaning on the crook of his neck.

A deep shiver run up his spine as he felt Lucifer's chest on his back.

 

"Mikie... What are you thinking?" he sweetly whispered to his ear. ( _That's not like you at all!_ )

  
"...".

 

Lucifer waited patiently, ignoring Michael's smell.

That wasn't  _his_ scent, that was the stink of an insignificant vessel covering most of _his_ mellow aroma.

 

 _I think that flesh is weak_. That was his thought.

_And I am tired of trying to prevail._

  
His pride stopped him from voicing that out, fortunately. ( _Or unfortunately?_ )

  
"You think you bosom me, I know." the other one concluded.

  
Michael stretched out his lips' corners in a lazy smile, huffing in annoyment: "Idiot.".

  
He felt like doing something. Anything.

  
Something that could destroy him, something that could mark the very end, something he had dreamt of for a long, long time.

He decided to mark that end.

With a raised arm, he set on fire uncountable lewd, feather-light paths down Lucifer's neck.  
In a second, that velvety skin was coals-hot to the touch.

His own skin was starting to feel different.

Repelling and escaping Lucifer's, yet desperately grasping it.

Ice on fiery ashes.

 

" _Inferno_." whispered Lucifer at a certain point.

  
"Excuse me?". Michael frowned, confused.

  
"What I feel when you touch me." he ammitted shamelessly.

After all, the only one blushing was Michael.

  
_Lucifer, are you that passionate and poetic?_

_What do you plan to do with me?_

  
They faced one another, Michael still pulled in that embrace.

Michael did it again, touching his skin, taking his face between the big hands of that body.  
  
When Lucifer slightly lowered his eyelids, Michael winced.  
He was so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.

He couldn't avoid feeling marvel.

"You're so...".  
Michael came to a halt.

What was he saying?  
That was Lucifer, one of his siblings.

That was the angel he ought not love more than his Father.

But... He could see his Grace shining, blinding.  
And that was the most  _beautiful_ thing he had ever seen in all of his long life.

 

Enochian was a synthetic language.

Words almost had no synonims, each one of them was used by the prophets only.

Angels rarely had an interest in speaking poetically, and Michael was between does rare ones who actually cared about it.

However, in that moment he couldn't think of anything else than  _beautiful_.

A primordial, simple, common and misused, _overused_ word bearing such a complex meaning.

  
Lucifer was staring him at a short distance. Just a few centimeters, eyes in the eyes. He looked candidly astounded, as pristine as he had never been and as he wasn't.

  
He knew what Lucifer was really like.  
What his Father and siblings thought didn't matter, and he knew that feeling that way about him made him guilty.  
Maybe that was what eventually gave him the courage to speak:  
"I think that flesh is weak. And I am tired of trying to prevail _._ ".

  
Lucifer smiled, before finally making their lips touch.  
Delicate, restraining himself.

Michael smelt strange.

It was a strong, spicy smell. Totally like him.  
They were so close he couldn't avoid it.

 _'Dad's little soldier'_. He loved to mock him calling him that, when they were just little angels.

Michael got mad so easily about that. It was so much fun.

 

Michael felt Lucifer's whole being shiver, and he wanted to feel him that way again.

He petted that vessel's curls, loving the way Lucifer closed his fists around the fabric covering his skin.

 

Sinning had never been so sweet.

But could that be defined as 'sinning'?

That was just... love.

That was what Father wanted between to happen between all of them.

 

He would have never distanced that new, beloved feeling of his own free will.

**Author's Note:**

> That turned out terrible even after my restorings.  
> I'm so sorry D:  
> I have goosebumps... Ew, this story needs to be in a trashcan right now!
> 
> Thank you anyways.
> 
>  
> 
> _Andate in pace._


End file.
